


I Like Him

by mattzerella_sticks



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Assumed Relationship, Awkwardness, Bruce Wayne in Denial, Canon Compliant, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Father Knows Best, Father-Son Relationship, Flashpoint (DCU), M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Flashpoint (DCU), Sorry Tom King but Batman isnt as straight as you'd like to think, The Button
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 21:50:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19326790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks
Summary: They might have gotten off to a rocky start, but near the end of 'Flashpoint' Thomas Wayne comes to think highly of Barry Allen. Enough so that he comes around to the idea that the speedster is in love with his son. He never so much as said it, but it was obvious to someone like him - the best detective in his reality.So when somehow he comes back - with his son in tow - Thomas needs to let Bruce know how much he approves of their relationship.Only Bruce doesn't have feelings for Barry Allen... right?





	I Like Him

**Author's Note:**

> So after seeing the lovely dc-is-gay's post on Tumblr (this one: https://dc-is-gay.tumblr.com/post/185717797906/dont-you-ever-just-think-about-how-the-end-of) I was inspired to write this little beauty because canon is what you make of it, am I right?
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

           Bruce knows he should say something, his stare unnerving in most circumstances, but any attempt stalls in his throat as if stopped by some immovable barrier. Still, Thomas doesn’t say anything to turn him away. In fact he seems calm, like they weren’t standing guard at the lip of the Cave’s entrance waiting for their coming attackers.

           “You know,” Thomas starts, “When Barry told me about you… about who you were and what _should_ have been… I thought he was crazy. During the entire time we worked together every rational part of me screamed that it wasn’t going to work. That we were going to die. But a tiny piece… it had hope.”

           He nods. “Barry does a great job of making a little bit of hope go a long way.”

           Thomas agrees, glancing between him and the aforementioned speedster.“He’s a great man… I think he’s good for you.”

           Bruce startles, thrown for a moment. “What are you…”

           “I like him,” Thomas says, facing Bruce. He smiles like he knows a secret that Bruce is privy to as well. “And knowing you have Barry in your life… well, it gave me some comfort while the world ended all around me. To protect you when I couldn’t… to make you _happy_.”

           Taken aback, Bruce breaks away from his father’s gaze. Unfortunately his eyes settle over to the other side where Barry’s blur zips around the Cosmic Treadmill. Bruce imagines what he must look like trying to put it together. Brows furrowed over blue eyes steely in their focus, and his jaw set - tongue peeking out as he’s seen countless times when Barry fully devotes himself to a task.

           “I don’t,” Bruce fumbles, “We’re not -” A heavy hand falls on his shoulder, cutting him off.

           “Son,” his father says, “believe me, the fact that he’s a guy is the _last_ thing I’m worried about.”

           “But -”

           A crash sounds from far off, forcing their conversation to stall on an unfinished road. “They’re coming,” Thomas says, “You ready?” He pulls two guns out from holsters on his side, Bruce aware enough to notice the motion.

           “No killing,” Bruce tells his father.

           “It’s not like they won’t have it coming -”

           He doesn’t waver. “No.”

           They’re chopping away at the grandfather clock, seconds away from breaching the first line. While Bruce might not have enough ability to navigate the murky waters of relationships, there are a few things he can still strongly hold onto. And his unwillingness to kill is one of them.

           Thomas flicks the safety off. “Fine, but you can’t stop me from maiming them.”

           Soldiers leap down the steps, closing the distance between them and the Waynes. A tall, dark-skinned woman tackles Thomas, letting two of her friends circle Bruce. He pulls out his bat-a-rangs, body twinging from Thawne’s earlier abuse. Bruce stamps down the pain, however, and allows adrenaline to lead him through the choreography.

           He drops down onto his back, kicking the first woman who charges him into the one waiting behind. Then, flipping back onto his feet, he launches the barrage of bat-a-rangs watching them explode in front of the waiting legion. Their shields can’t protect them from the concussive blowback, and one of their numbers falls into the deep chasm.

           Bruce gives them no room to breathe, rolling a few pellets onto the ground before blocking an uppercut. The strike hid an even fiercer knee kick that rips a few of his stitches open. He staggers back a few feet, a hand pressed to his side. The group regains their bearings and readies their attacks. Luckily the pellets hiss and blast open, a growing foam washing over them.

           The woman in front of him curses, her long red hair swaying as she stalks towards him. Her axe raised, Bruce readies a dodge for when she swings. She never does; the woman who attacked his father slams into her and sends them both crumbling to the floor.

           Bruce looks at his father, a few cuts across his chest being the only injury. “Are you okay?” he asks him, hands relaxing from rock-like fists. Bruce tries to tell him ‘yes’, only the pain in his side rears back and has him biting back a gasp. He collapses into his father’s ready arms.

           “Guys! Guys, I think I’m done!”

           They turn to see Barry waving for them, a rebuilt treadmill to his side.

           “Like I said,” Thomas whispers, carrying Bruce over, “he’s a real good one.”

           Bruce blames the overwhelming hurt on his inability to give a response. The growls and shouts from the Amazons fade into the background as Thomas leads them both over to where Barry waits. He hands him over to Barry, Bruce straining to stay with his father.

           “That was a scouting party,” Thomas says, “There’ll be more coming without a doubt. You two need to leave now.”

           “No,” Bruce gasps, “You… what about -”

           A loud rumble shakes the earth beneath them, cracking fissures in the cave walls and knocking stalactites into free falls. One shatters a few feet away, and Barry’s grip on Bruce tightens. “Bruce,” Barry shouts, “This place… it’s starting to tear itself apart!”

           “But what about -”

           “Bruce,” Thomas speaks over him, voice firm and face set with grim determination, “Bruce, please… this place was never meant to exist. I… I wasn’t supposed to live. But _you_ can. With your family, your son, and…” He pauses, gaze briefly flitting over to Barry. “Stop letting the _bat_ control your life… choose to be _happy_.”

           Amongst the noises of the world ending Bruce hears the Amazons from before ripping themselves from their entrapment, alongside the echoes of even more flooding in. Barry pulls him towards the treadmill, one foot on it. He continues to fight, calling for his father.

           “Barry,” Thomas addresses the other man, “Please look after him. Keep him _safe_.” The words weigh heavily on Bruce’s heart, he and Thomas the only two aware of what exactly his father asks.

           “Of course,” Barry says, both him and Bruce on the treadmill. He runs, the electricity flying off the machine with each step. Bruce feels the lightning coursing through him, sparks flying every which way. Thomas watches them with a calm acceptance, shoulders set back and chin held high.

           The scene fades from view the faster Barry runs. Thomas, the Amazons, and the Flashpoint reality disappears, and yet Bruce cannot calling for his father. He returns to that little boy in the alley, forced to sit in a dirty puddle while his trembled cries go unanswered. So distraught he barely notices the other speeding blur that passes them until Barry shouts his name.

           “Thawne!”

           Up ahead he sees the yellow-clad speedster chasing an unseen force, button in hand. Barry pounds into the treadmill with reckless abandon, Bruce’s hold on him tightening so he doesn’t fall off.

           They chase for what feels like years but could possibly be seconds, never coming close enough to catch Thawne. Barry tries his hardest, reaching out and straining to snag the tiniest scraps of fabric. Before he could Zoom bursts forward with the aid of a second wind, tearing into some other facet of reality. The tremors of his speed causes the already shaky treadmill to come apart under them. Unable to travel further, he and Barry become spectators as Thawne confronts some so-called ‘god’. Stare in terrific awe because the villain disintegrates before their eyes, an unseen shadow proving his might. All that remains of their foe is a haunting scream.

           “Bruce,” Barry says, now focused on the predicament at hand, “Bruce I need you to hold on. If you let go, we’re going to be lost -” The treadmill shatters, and they’re thrown more into the strange energy around them. Bruce, numb and exhausted, can only sense Barry fly away because the warmth at his side disappears and a rush of cold replaces it.

           His last thought before the shock overtakes him is how he never appreciated how nice Barry’s presence made him feel.

* * *

           Bruce cannot sleep. In these instances he would usually slip into his costume and swing from the rooftops or sit at his computer and pull pieces from a crime scene and assemble the puzzle. With his injuries from Thawne and the wreckage of his equipment, all he’s left with is his mind and the window of his study.

           There’s a lot stirring inside his head that he shouldn’t be bored - the figure that killed Thawne, the button, the mysterious man who saved him and Barry. But they all pale in comparison to his reunion with Thomas Wayne.

           He has much to unpack about what they spoke about. Sitting in the very spot where the idea for Batman was born, Bruce considers following his father’s advice. Hanging up the cowl and stepping out of the shadows.

           “Happy,” he mumbles to himself, “Can I really be…”

           A montage of a life without Batman flashes, where he turns Bruce Wayne into the hero he was meant to be instead of the misdirection he uses to keep up appearances. Imagines what it might have been if he never took to the cowl in the first place.

           But then he remembers what his father said, about his family. Bruce would never have had them without help from the Batman. He might embody the night but Batman was responsible for hanging each star in his sky.

           “I’d have no sons…” Bruce says, “No friends - _real_ friends. I never would have met -”

           His father’s approval comes to mind, and Bruce shakes his head. He wills the blush away from his face, dragging a hand down his cheeks to stem the flow of blood.

           He thinks about Barry, considers him the way his father did. It’s true that he and the other man had always had a special bond - one of mutual respect, both master detectives who can only discuss their skills with the other. True equals. But there was never anything more to it.

           Sure Bruce may smile more in his presence, but Barry can crack even the most petrified faces. Sometimes he would overstep boundaries others have that sent Bruce spiraling into a bad mood in the past; however it only conjured up some fond exasperation when Barry did it. And seeing him in danger did grip at his heart in the cruelest of ways, driving him to keeping the speedster safe.

           But that didn’t mean he _liked_ Barry in that way.

           Shaking his head, he casts those thoughts to the side. “You’re tired Bruce,” he says to himself, “Overthinking… he has _Iris_ and you…” Chuckling darkly, Bruce lets the words drop off.

           As the sun crests over the hills Bruce decides to follow his father’s advice. He _will_ be happy. There _is_ someone he can be happy with.

           He thinks his father would have liked her… even if she wasn’t Barry.

* * *

 _Epilogue_ :

           Thomas considers Bane’s offer, weighing the options in his mind. While it was a cruel and sadistic plot against his son, there were enough loose ends that he could leverage to give his son the family and happy ending he deserved. But he needs to play his cards close to his chest.

           “I want to see Batman die as much as anyone,” he starts, “But I may need some time to think it over. I’m still getting used to this reality… it’s only been days since you found me.”

           Bane nods. “I understand. I hope you know, though, that I won’t stop my plans for you either. Everything needs to happen at the _right_ moment, and we’re working on a very tight schedule.” He smirks, “Why in a few days I’ll be ruining your son’s wedding.”

           He frowns, “He’s getting married?”

           “Yes, it would have been a lovely affair - a truly _happy_ moment. But unfortunately I can’t have a _happy_ Batman.”

           Thomas sighs, thinking of Bruce standing at an altar in a black tuxedo. Imagines him waiting for someone who would never come. Pictures Bruce believing that the love of his life had run out on him. As much as he wanted for his son to be happy, now that he’s here Thomas can take over.

           “I won’t stop you,” he tells Bane, “I do ask though that whatever you do to Flash, it’s no _serious_ harm.”

           Confusion settles clearly across Bane’s face at Thomas’s request. “What?”

           “The Flash? To stop the wedding - I don’t know what you have planned but I’d hate to see the poor boy _killed_ -”

           “Why do you think I would hurt the Flash?”

           “...Because that’s who my son’s in a relationship… isn’t he?”

           Bane laughs, a cruel bellowing sound that grates on Thomas’s nerves. “Well that would be a complete shock to _everyone_!”

           Thomas scowls at him, leaning forward. “What is it you’re trying to say.”

           “I hate to break it to you old man, but your boy isn’t marrying the speedster,” Bane says, “He’s planning to tie the knot with a thief named Selina Kyle - otherwise known as _Catwoman_.”

           Settling back into his seat, Thomas takes in this new information. Somehow adjusting to the idea he was no longer in a world that was crumbling all around him seemed easier than accepting that his son wasn’t dating Barry Allen. Immediately his loose plans for the future adjust, roping Barry into them. If they weren’t together, Thomas would at least like to know _why_.

           Bane, ignoring Thomas’s silence, continues on, “Flash though? I didn’t consider adding him… but if there is something there for you to see I might just have to expand my operation out to Central City… and I know the Gotham Girl for the job.”

**Author's Note:**

> Did ya like? Let me know by dropping a kudos/comment below!


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